


El sueno de la razon produce monstruos

by prosodiical



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne
Genre: Demons, Gen, Missing Scene, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/pseuds/prosodiical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The sleep of reason brings forth monsters.</i><br/>Defeat is just a small bump on the road to power, and it only makes your determination stronger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	El sueno de la razon produce monstruos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laylah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/gifts).



> Title (and the translation in the summary) from [this](http://www.franciscodegoya.net/114437/El-Sueno-de-la-razon-produce-monstruos-\(The-sleep-of-reason-brings-forth-monsters\)-large.jpg) print by Francisco de Goya.
> 
> Thanks ever so much to mikeneko for the beta (and the title *g*)!

There are whispers.

Demons and Manikins alike are incessant gossipers, and it’s easy for you to hide behind a doorway and listen in. Some speak in tongues you don’t know, languages that are strange and guttural, but you recognize a few words: Magatsuhi. Yoyogi Park.

It’s fortunate, too lucky even for you. You came to the Mantra Headquarters from there, or close enough; you’re familiar with the tunnels and the demons you have to avoid. Magatsuhi is necessary for you to establish your Reason in the new world, and you _will_.

Failure isn’t an option any more.

So you walk down the Ikebukuro Tunnel, your fingers curling around the hilt of a knife in your pocket. It’s one you took from a Manikin, almost an age ago: you barely had time to ask and the thing thrust it at you, praying to keep whatever life it had, twitching all the while. The knife is a relic, rusty with blood not your own, but –

You’ve had enough of being defenseless. You stick to the shadows as a demon ambles past, its head twitching in your direction. It senses you, but doesn’t pause in its aimless walk as it continues on. There aren’t many you have to worry about, and even they tend not to linger.

Asakusa Tunnel, next. You take the turns instinctively, the foggy shades of memory leading you onward. The atmosphere here is oppressive, making your breath come in short bursts and your muscles strain with something close to exhaustion.

Still, there is Magatsuhi ahead, and you press on.

Yoyogi Park is surrounded by demons. The colours of the park are dulled and deadened, and it makes you ache to see it restored. Kagutsuchi is waxing, bright against the dull sky, and you reach into your purse and pull out a Repulse Bell.

It’s useful. You shake it in a steady beat, the bell ringing in time with your footsteps as you walk toward the construction site. The demons near you wince away at the sound, covering their ears and closing their eyes, and you’re uninterrupted as you head inside.

Then Kagutsuchi turns to darkness, a new moon, and the bell crumbles to dust in your hand.

You hide. The demons here are vicious, willing to attack anything, and you creep along the maze-like passages and duck into abandoned rooms when anything looks your way. Soon, you come to a hallway that’s a stretch of emptiness, and there are guards, two Trolls outside the door. Your fingers curl around your only Wagtail Plume.

You step away from the wall and walk toward them as though you’re meant to be here, because you are. “Hello,” you say.

When they raise their clubs in unison, you toss the Plume into the air. It dissipates into a fine pink powder over both Trolls, and they stumble into one another. “I think it was that way,” you say helpfully, pointing back the way you came, and the glaze in their eyes doesn’t falter as they walk away.

From there, it’s too easy to go through the door.

You’re not alone. There’s a Manikin standing there, his outfit a strange blend of Manikin faces and cloth. Behind him is a rock, featureless, but you just know –

“That’s the store of Magatsuhi,” you murmur.

He looks at you, twitching incessantly as Manikins do. You step closer to the rock, closer to the realization of your Reason, and he says, “That’s mine.”

It isn’t. “It’s useless to you,” you tell him, “so it’s mine.”

He twitches and the motion turns into an attack, his arm shooting out toward you. It’s so unexpected that you can’t dodge out of the way, and you gasp as the air is knocked out of your lungs.

Then he tosses you into the wall, as easy as swatting a bug.

It riles you, makes your heart pound and your muscles twitch with the urge to do _something, anything_, but you haven’t lost your senses so you lie still, only breathing. Adrenaline slows, your aches catch up to you like old friends, and your fingers curl around the hilt of the knife in your pocket. The Manikin turns his back.

You pounce. The knife slides into his back and you pull it sideways, right where some vital organs and his spine would be if he were human. He isn’t, but when he turns it’s almost anger you can see in his face as he swipes at you with his nearest hand. You dodge out of the way.

But he’s fast, faster than you expected and he catches your shoulder with the edge of his palm and pulls –

Your mind blanks.

Disconnect. You’re against the wall, again. You rummage with your spare hand in the satchel on your belt, and your arm trembles as you bring your last Soma to your lips. It melts on your tongue, reminiscent of chocolate or something you can’t remember the name of, something sweet.

Your skin tingles as it knits together. Your heartbeat speeds again, the drug a jolt to your system, and you stand on nearly stable legs.

Don’t look. You keep your eyes fixed on the ground, ignore the bloodstains on your dress and the puddle underneath you on the floor.

You lift your gaze to watch the Manikin’s back as he walks away, the Magatsuhi-rock in hand.

Then the demons come, nearly a dozen of them, watching you like you’re an insect under a microscope that they want to squash. _Let them try_, you think, and grit your teeth and raise your head high.

A Titania hovers in front of you, and offers a chilling smile. “Human,” she says, “what’s your purpose now?”

This, then, is simple. “Strength,” you say, and your voice doesn’t waver. “My Reason is Yosuga, that the strong will rule over the weak.”

There’s the sound of high-pitched tittering, a High Pixie giggling behind her hands. You bend down, picking up your knife, now caked with a dark, muddy substance, and very deliberately examine it. It’s in your bad hand, but even so…

The laughter stops. The Titania tilts her head, her eyebrows raised to her hairline, and says, “You know, the Mantra Headquarters have fallen.”

You do know. Even in tunnels, even in Asakusa, demons talk. You shrug, sticking your hand in your pocket. “And?”

The Oberon beside her says, “Gozu-Tennoh is still there, in spirit.”

And your mind spins through the possibilities. You manage a smile, and bow your head in a modicum of respect. “Then I’ll be going.”

They part as you walk out of the room. You spare one last look, one last time to see the far wall, and -

The remains of your right arm are splattered against it. Your blood is bright, startling against the dull colours of the room. You ignore the urge to clutch at your shoulder with your remaining hand, ignore the frantic, terrified pounding of your heart and you head back to the tunnels, your gaze firmly fixed on the path ahead.

* * *

You take a moment in a safe room to clean your knife and tear the blood-stained sleeves and shoulders from your dress. The fabric falls to the ground in a heap and you ball it up with your fist, tossing it into the far corner of the room.

You’re never going to be that person again. Energy thrums, restless under your skin, and once you exit you break into a run.

You’re past Asakusa before a demon actually manages to catch up to you, a Principality with stiff shoulders who hovers only a foot above the ground.

He says, “You are weakened, human.”

A too-familiar rage bubbles in your stomach, and you let some it escape as you bare your teeth in a snarl. “Were you planning on anything other than belittling me?”

“Your Reason, however,” he continues, as though you never spoke at all, “is one the Divine can support, given time.”

It sends a surprised thrill up your spine, makes jubilation and laughter catch in your throat. Angels, or demons playing as such, helping you become a god of the new world? But you won’t ever be weak again, and part of that…

You make a thoughtful noise in the back of your throat, noncommittal. “And what of your Lord?”

“This would be His will,” the Principality says, suddenly looking much friendlier. “We will assist you in your endeavours to gather Magatsuhi, so that your Reason will be the one to shape the new world.”

It’s an offer that’s well worth taking, but – “Will you serve me, to fight my enemies on my orders, and give me the respect I deserve?”

You step forward, smiling slightly, and the Principality backs away. “I should not promise,” he says, hesitant.

“And go against His wishes?”

“Never!” the Principality shouts, his expression wild. “We shall serve you as in accordance with His will, as He – ”

“Good,” you interrupt, and walk on. A dozen steps further, he hovers by your shoulder, his mere presence ample protection against those who might attack. The demon’s motivations need work, but you’re sure that in time they’ll all come to understand.

Midway through the Ikebukuro Tunnel your exhaustion catches up to you, the energy boost from the Soma draining away.

It isn’t far, now. You correct your posture and focus on your steps, one foot in front of another. The Mantra Headquarters is nearly empty, and you know your path as you take the elevator to the highest floor.

“My lady,” the Principality says.

“Quiet,” you bite out, your hand curling into a fist as your stomach drops nauseously and the yellow numbers climb, up and up.

He quiets, and it gives you a rush of strength and pride as you walk straight to the entrance of Gozu-Tennoh’s chamber. You ignore the door to your right and push open the left, your footsteps sounding loud as they echo through the room. Inside is desecrated, Gozu-Tennoh’s statue fallen to the ground, but his sigil lights as you approach.

You hide a brief smile as you drop to your knees, bowing your head in supplication.

_No one _will defeat you now.


End file.
